Banana Tower
Was this what Pisa had become? Tourists herded from one attraction to another, planning their day around the bus schedule, purchasing silly plastic mementos destined to gather dust on far-away bookshelves? I looked more closely.
Was this what Pisa had become? Tourists herded from one attraction to another, planning their day around the bus schedule, purchasing silly plastic mementos destined to gather dust on far-away bookshelves? I looked more closely.
One taste and I became a mussel maniac. When cooked, the smooth, flesh-like morsels tightened and huddled—warm and peach-colored, sweet and tender—at the edge of their rough blue-black shells. They hunkered there, clinging, small and succulent, as if anticipating the approach of my hungry tongue and teeth. The mussels’ slippery folds released trickles of the dish’s rich juices, inviting exploration.
“This plant is having sex 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, for 3 or 4 months; it’s very strenuous!” Jim Celeri is showing me a gorgeous rhododendron that is in full bloom, and explaining the plant’s need for water. While I’d prefer a less thirsty specimen for my garden, I have fallen in love….”
I’ve visited rainforests around the world—in Argentina and Brazil, Trinidad and Tobago, in the mountains of Madagascar, and in Queensland, Australia. But my favorite rainforest is less than four miles from downtown San Francisco.